


I thought you'd never ask

by Dominatrix



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, It's time for dinner, Prequel to "I really don't care", Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 23:05:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominatrix/pseuds/Dominatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She longed to let her fingertips wander over these perfect cheekbones, to bury her hands deep in his hair to pull him close, to feel his breath on her neck...It was very distracting to think about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I thought you'd never ask

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo finally there's a prequel yay :D  
> Did take me some time but I'm glad I did it.  
> Above all, cheers to the lovely Flora who kept on asking for a prequel. There we go, I hope you enjoy it darling :)  
> Love you all, Dominatrix ♥

„You know we’ll need to talk about the bed“ she ripped him out of his thoughts.

He frowned at her, his fingers still below his chin in his usual thinking position. “Why are you still here? Didn’t you leave hours ago?” Now it was her turn to frown. “That was John. He said goodbye. You even replied.”

“Oh” Sherlock murmured lowly. It didn’t surprise him. He often did this without noticing. “And he left me alone with you? With a dominatrix?”

She chuckled and rose from the heavy armchair before she shortly peeked in the mirror. She felt his gaze on her body. It would have been a lie to say she didn’t like being watched by him.

“Actually, I was surprised that he even dared to go out. I always assumed he was jealous. And don’t you worry, Mr. Holmes” Irene added with a smirk on her lips, shining from her blood-red lipstick. “I won’t beat you if you’re nice to me.” Sherlock had no opportunity to ask her what she meant with ‘nice’ before she went on talking. “So, with the bed. I’ll be staying here for the next days, I think. So I need a place to sleep. Any suggestions?”

The sparkle in her eyes was far too direct for Sherlock to ignore and far too dangerous for him to not be interested. The truth was that he actually wanted this woman. He’d never tell her or John or anyone else, he didn’t even openly admit it to himself...But the feeling was there. It puzzled him a lot. With a heavy sigh he sat up on the couch.

“Well, that’s a topic I’d love to talk about.”

Something in Sherlock’s gaze told Irene that he wasn’t as distant as he used to be. As well did his voice – low, soft, velvety, promising. Far away from the cool tone his voice normally had.

 

“Are you... _flirting_ with me?”

Actually, it sounded ridiculous and she was sure he would brush her off like he did every time she tried to get closer. It disappointed her a bit to see that there were still men – actually, just a single one – she wanted but she couldn’t get. The greatest pity was that she was really interested in Sherlock Holmes. She longed to let her fingertips wander over these perfect cheekbones, to bury her hands deep in his hair to pull him close, to feel his breath on her neck...It was very distracting to think about that. Especially when he said things like these.

His lips twitched to form a superior smirk. “Oh, I got you. Irene Adler – speechless. You didn’t expect that, did you?”

He stood up slowly and with the gracious movements of a panther. Irene really wondered how John managed to keep himself from ripping Sherlock’s clothes off. She wouldn’t manage.

The closer he came the more clueless she got. When he stood right in front of her, gaze intense and pierced in hers, she was sure that her breath went a lot faster than it was healthy. “So, let’s talk about the bed.” “I...” She had not expected this initiative of him, and to be honest she had no idea what to do now. It had been a nice game as long as he had been distant and refusing. But now it seemed as if he was...offering himself to her. The shimmer in his eyes was hungry – there was no other word for it.

“Are you giving in?” “Maybe I am” he whispered. “Just convince me.”

Her arms were flung around his neck before one of them could even blink. Her mouth was pressed on his, desperately and with flaming passion.

In contrast to what she had thought, Sherlock was a brilliant kisser. It should have made her rethink the John-Watson-and-Sherlock’s-clothes-theory, but she was far too distracted by the sensation of Sherlock’s slender hands gliding down her body, gripping one of her legs and pulling it up to his hips.

Irene smiled in the kiss and pulled him back a little until her back crushed against a wall. She backed off Sherlock for only a few seconds. Her lipstick was probably smeared all over her face, as it was over his; she could follow all the marks she had left on his lips, his cheeks, his jaw and his neck. Irene thought about telling him this, but she was sure he really didn’t care. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her even tighter before he lifted her completely. Bewildered for a split second, Irene soon flung her legs around his slim waist, now fulfilling her desire of burying her hands in his hair.

Sherlock was stronger than Irene would have believed, and he seemed to put no strain at all in pinning her against the wall, kissing her until she was half-unconscious. “Now...what’s with the bed?” she asked, fully breathless. He laughed lowly while stealing another kiss from her lips. “We’ll have to talk about this. But not now.”

There was a far more important question that needed to be asked. In the end, after Irene had already started to open the buttons of Sherlock’s shirt to caress the pale skin underneath and her pullover lay on the ground as if it would be the most usual of all things, it was Sherlock who drew back from Irene’s lips to look at her. His eyes were shining in amazement and arousal, his pupils dilated. Irene could feel his heart beat under her exploring hands.

His voice was hoarse and low when he finally gave in completely with a silent sigh that trembled against Irene’s lips.

“Want to have dinner?”

Irene smiled, and it was a devilish grin that made her eyes sparkle.

“I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
